Date: 10.10.2224
Location: Red Rocket Truck Stop, Lafayette Outskirts
Morning settled over the Red Rocket with a kind of peace that still feels unusual in the wasteland.
The Coulee Mine shimmered beneath a light fog, frogs croaked somewhere beyond the reeds, and the smell of breakfast drifted from the kitchen long before anyone gathered around the table.
Mabel Dean had been awake for hours.
She believed that a warm meal could steady a troubled mind better than most medicine.
By the time we sat down, the table was full. Mirelurk eggs, thick slices of toasted wasteland bread, fried mutfruit, roasted corn, and fresh coffee brewed from beans Jean had traded for months ago.
Larry, however...
Had already wandered off before breakfast.
Nobody knew where.
Nobody asked.
Not yet.
Jean folded his hands before eating.
"So..."
He smiled toward Chuck.
"How'd you sleep?"
Chuck looked almost embarrassed.
"I honestly don't remember the last time I slept without waking every hour."
Jean nodded knowingly.
"A safe bed'll do that."
Chuck smiled.
"I kept waiting for something awful to happen."
"And?"
Chuck looked around the room.
"It never did."
Jean chuckled.
"Sometimes the greatest blessing isn't excitement."
He lifted his mug.
"Sometimes it's simply an uneventful night."
Everyone quietly agreed.
As breakfast continued, Chuck looked thoughtfully toward Jean.
"You know..."
"I've been wondering something."
Jean looked up.
"What's that?"
"You showed me kindness before you knew anything about me."
"I was afraid of you."
"I judged you."
"I avoided you."
Chuck lowered his eyes.
"And you still welcomed me."
Jean rested his elbows on the table.
"My father used to tell me something."
He smiled softly.
"'Grace is giving somebody room to become better than the moment you met them.'"
The room became quiet.
Jean continued.
"Compassion isn't pretending folks haven't made mistakes."
"It's deciding those mistakes don't have to be the last chapter."
He looked directly at Chuck.
"You were scared."
"I understand fear."
"I've watched people point rifles at my children because they saw green skin before they saw frightened faces."
"I've buried neighbors."
"I've watched good people lose themselves."
"If I answered every wound with another wound..."
He slowly shook his head.
"...there wouldn't be much left of me."
Chuck swallowed hard.
"I don't know if I deserve that kind of grace."
Jean smiled.
"None of us earn grace."
"That's why it's grace."
Clancy had been unusually quiet.
Finally he set his fork down.
"You know..."
"I spent years hating just about everything."
He laughed at himself.
"People."
"Mutants."
"Ghouls."
"Anything different."
He looked directly at Jean.
"I won't lie."
"I still wrestle with prejudice."
"It's not something that disappears overnight."
"But..."
He looked toward me.
"Big Chief's been teaching me things I never thought I'd learn."
"Especially from people I never bothered trying to understand."
Jean smiled warmly.
"Learning usually starts where certainty ends."
Clancy nodded.
"I reckon you're right."
Across the table Pinball suddenly twitched.
His optic blinked twice.
Then three times.
"Chief..."
I looked over.
"Yes?"
Pinball tilted his chassis.
"I have been processing an observational inquiry."
"What is it?"
He paused dramatically.
"Are you..."
"...Black?"
Everyone looked up.
Pinball continued.
"You appear more... brown."
He rotated slightly.
"Possibly burnt orange."
Silence.
Then Mabel burst into laughter.
"Well, daaaamn!"
She placed a hand on her hip.
"What do we look like then?"
Pinball immediately turned toward her.
"You look..."
Processing...
"Marvelous, Madam."
The table exploded into laughter.
Even Atom lifted his head from beneath the table.
Clancy laughed so hard he nearly spilled his coffee.
"I swear..."
"That robot gets better every day."
I smiled.
"This breakfast reminds me of a book I read when I was a child."
Jean looked curious.
"What book?"
"Green Eggs and Ham."
Pinball's eyes brightened.
"Verification successful!"
His speaker crackled enthusiastically.
"Published by Dr. Seuss."
"Primary educational objective: encouraging children to try unfamiliar experiences before rejecting them."
He spun happily.
"Conclusion: today's breakfast demonstrates practical application of classic childhood literature."
Jean laughed.
"I'll be..."
"So all these years I've been teachin' philosophy with Mirelurk eggs."
Mabel grinned.
"Guess so."
Chuck looked around the room.
Then toward his bunk downstairs.
"I still can't believe y'all gave me a place."
Jean answered without hesitation.
"A house isn't measured by walls."
"It's measured by whether people feel safe enough to sleep."
Chuck nodded quietly.
"I think..."
"I'm finally beginning to."
Atom lay proudly beside the table.
Alert.
Watching everyone.
Yet perfectly calm.
Every so often Mabel reached down to scratch behind his ears.
The great bobcat accepted the attention with all the dignity of a king inspecting loyal subjects.
Pinball leaned over.
"Observation."
"Atom has accepted this residence."
Jean smiled.
"So have you."
Pinball beeped proudly.
"I have."
Halfway through breakfast Clancy looked around the room.
"Where's Larry?"
Nobody answered.
Jean shrugged.
"He slipped out before sunrise."
"Didn't say where."
I checked my Pip-Boy.
The time blinked across the screen.
12:30 PM.
I looked toward Clancy.
"Should we go looking for him?"
Clancy thought for only a second.
"Nah."
A grin crossed his face.
"He'll be alright."
I leaned back in my chair.
Maybe.
Or maybe Larry Breaux had found another story worth chasing.
Either way...
The Swindler was somewhere beyond the Red Rocket.
And sooner or later...
He'd come back with something none of us expected.
— The Big Chief
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